


Perpignan

by Armos



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, They've been married for 20 years!!, love that for them, wedding anniversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:22:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28797570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Armos/pseuds/Armos
Summary: Margot dislodged herself from Alana, eagerly grabbing the wrapped present and testing the weight of it.  Making a puzzled face at it she ripped away the gift wrapping only to find two cheese boards staring up at her.They were honestly beautiful quality, the deep stormy sea depicted along the handle in heavy marbling.Alana came up behind her, hooking her chin over her shoulder with a gentle smile.“Cheeseboards?,” Margot asked, putting them down delicately and leaning back into Alana’s embrace.  “These are lovely but we don’t eat very much cheese, Alana.”
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger
Kudos: 15
Collections: Hannibal Flash Fic #002





	Perpignan

Margot and Alana had fallen into a bit of a rhythm over the years. Margot remembers shipping their son off to college fondly, not too long ago. He had grown into a fine young man, though with a bit of an unfortunate resemblance to people rather left unmentioned. Verger genetics were strong, dominant, over Bloom genetics, apparently. He took the face he was given and gave it a positive reason for being, working hard on eventually earning his VMD, a pleasant juxtaposition to his face’s predecessor.

Alana’s mind reaches further back. She recalls fleeing to the border of France and Spain, securing two  Carte de Séjour  for Alana and Matais, piggy backing off Margot’s citizenship. The visas worked perfectly well until they were able to gain citizenship of their own. All this just to escape the possibility of Lecter finding them upon his escape. When nothing happened, years down the line, and the monster never showed his face- Alana finally let herself break down and cry with relief. From that day onward she never felt the need to look back over her shoulder, expecting to see the devil himself stalking her through the streets and into her family home.

Thanks to the vast wealth of the Verger family in Margot’s hands the two ladies had lived an easy and lavish family life, filled with traveling and experiences and love. Neither woman found much need to work, only taking on professional roles to keep their minds active and give themselves reasons to miss the other throughout the day.

Perpignan, France was truly a beautiful place to live and had been their home for the past twenty or so years. The _ Gulf of Lion  _ kept the air fresh with sea spray, the seafood fresh and crisp, and the sunset always looked a particular shade of perfect when it rained. It was perfectly on the border, the city of Barcelona a couple hours away for date night to watch the flamenco dancers. There was a never ending amount of cathedrals to visit if either woman felt particularly spiritual or in need of forgiveness on hard days. Sometimes Alana visited them just for the feel, the peace, of the buildings. It brought her back to herself, to a her far in the past, and made her view herself from the lens of the future. She wouldn’t change a thing, even if the twinge in her back reduced her to tears on rainy days.

Alana meandered into the kitchen and glanced to the calendar tacked to the wall, considering the date with fondness. She had looked forward to this day every year.

Propping her cane against the doorframe, she set her package on the counter, careful not to rip the wrapping, and waited for her wife to grumpily descend from the stairs and into her arms.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” Alana chirped.

Margot just grunted at her, making grabby hands as she squinted at Alana. Her eyesight had been starting to wane but her pride kept her from getting glasses. Alana found it adorable, in an exasperating way.

Alana opened her arms, letting Margot bury her head into the crook of her neck with a sigh.

“Happy anniversary,” she whispered, kissing the top of Margot’s head. Margot hummed against her collarbone.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” she murmured back. “Where is my gift?”

Alana laughed, loud and bright, and gestured to the counter.

Margot dislodged herself from Alana, eagerly grabbing the wrapped present and testing the weight of it. Making a puzzled face at it she ripped away the gift wrapping only to find two cheese boards staring up at her.

They were honestly beautiful quality, the deep stormy sea depicted along the handle in heavy marbling.

Alana came up behind her, hooking her chin over her shoulder with a gentle smile.

“Cheeseboards?,” Margot asked, putting them down delicately and leaning back into Alana’s embrace. “These are lovely but we don’t eat very much cheese, Alana.”

Alana chuckled.

“They aren’t for use, not really. I was thinking they represent our life together well. France is known for its cheeses.”

She could feel Margot rolling her eyes, the crinkle of her developing crows feet, as she fought against smiling.

“You bought these because we live in France? Really, Alana? That’s maybe the lamest reasoning you’ve given me for a gift yet.”

“I can tell you’re thinking this was last minute, like I didn’t know what to get you.”

Margot tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow.

“This is a genuine gift. I promise. We live in France, yes, right by the sea. That much is obvious. But it goes deeper than that. The wood is sturdy and meant to last. The dark and stormy colors show the troubles and hardships we’ve been through, together and apart. They come together to make something high quality and beautiful as a pair.”

“We’re a pair of…. Cheeseboards?”

“What? I think they’re nice!”

“And I think you’re cheesy,” Margot said playfully.

“Even more fitting then,” Alana sassed back.

Rolling her eyes, Margot picked up the boards. The careful way she grasped them in her hands bellied her candid and teasing attitude. She propped them up against the window above the sink, complimenting the view of the rolling waves across the bay.

Alana reached for her cane, propped against the doorway, and shuffled her way over to her wife.

“I also got us two tickets to the Cotswolds, if the idea of cutting cheese isn’t romantic enough for you.”

Margot turned around, pointing at Alana with a stern finger.

“The real reason for the cheeseboard comes out!”

“You did mention missing the taste of “genuine Pub Cheese” a few weeks back. I thought I’d surprise you with the opportunity to have some.”

Margot gave her a look, all fondness and soft affection.

“You do this every year, Alana. A fake present before the real deal.”

“Do I really?,” Alana asked, knowing full well that, yes, she did do this every year. It was worth it, seeing Margot try to piece together the clues leading up to the real surprise. She never got it right but that just added to the fun.

Margot tosses a look her way, exasperated.

Alana turned her head with a smirk, unwilling to admit anything. After they had settled in and the fear of Lecter finding them had passed, Alana had made it her own personal little mission to travel with Margot to every nook and cranny the world had to offer. She wanted to watch her bask in her glow, their shared happiness and freedom together.

It started out small, their first outing to Barcelona to a small Spanish diner, still hesitant and fearful. Then the next year, deeper into Spain- Madrid this time. The next, a risky move- Amsterdam. As the years past most of Europe had been searched and discovered and Alana was already planning next year’s adventure- their first jaunt together in Asia, still deciding between India and Mongolia. She had time to plan. They had all the time in the world.

“Always with the surprises,” Margot said quietly, shaking her head with fondness. “I’ll be right back. My gift for you is upstairs. Don’t go wandering off anywhere.”

She said this with authority, borne out of years of having to reign Alana in when her curiosity won her over, and she once again thrust a stern finger Alana’s way. She kept pointing, walking backwards, until abruptly turning on her heel and making her way up the stairs.

Alana watched her go with a softness dancing around the edges of her mouth and leaned back. Her gaze was drawn back toward the window.

She didn’t mind being a cheeseboard.

**Author's Note:**

> old lesbean wives make everything right in the world


End file.
